


Making Up for Lost Time

by gothamvillains



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-5x12, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothamvillains/pseuds/gothamvillains
Summary: It's been ten years since Edward and Oswald have seen each other, and the pair have a lot of catching up to do.(Takes place the same night as 5x12 and delves into what happened after they escaped the G.C.P.D. and Batman.)





	Making Up for Lost Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Here (finally) is the post-finale fic I've been working on. It's basically just one long conversation between Ed and Oswald because our boys have been through a lot and deserve the chance to just sit down and talk in peace.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

"So, where exactly are we heading?" Edward asked in conversation, seeing no harm in indulging his curiosity despite the fact that the answer wouldn’t make a difference to him either way. It wasn't as though he had a laundry list of options to choose from, and even if he did, Oswald would likely still be the best of them by far. Ed was perfectly content to follow his lead, wherever the night might go.

"I figured we’d start up by 14th Street and make the rounds through my safehouses until we find one that's suitable, if that's alright with you. This one coming up would be my first preference, but there's no guarantee that it's still standing after what happened."

"I'm sure that whichever one we end up at will do fabulously," Edward beamed, cheerful at the thought of them finally being able to take a load off and unpack the day's events. "Frankly, even an abandoned sewer would beat Arkham by a mile at this point."

Oswald gave a soft laugh, feeling a warmth spark inside of him at the familiarity of his old friend and the comfort that their natural chatter provided after such a miserable decade spent locked behind bars. "We have had an unfortunate turn of luck these past few years, haven't we?" He reflected, the words seeming to leave a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Yes, that's one way to put it."

"Is there anything you would like to talk about?" Oswald offered, sneaking a quick glance up at his companion to try and read his face. "I mean, we obviously don’t have to discuss it if you're not comfortable. I just wanted to offer—"

"That's very kind of you, Oswald, but I would really rather just leave the past behind us."

"Of course… Forget I said anything."

They walked the next block in an uncomfortable silence, feeling too much pressure to speak as they realized that the next sound uttered might very well set the tone for the remainder of the evening. That was the thing about having been separated for such an insufferably long time: both men had gone through a multitude of trials and changes and then proceeded to work them out on their own until neither felt particularly keen to reopen the stitched-up wounds that they had accumulated during their period of separation. Even beginning to tackle the question of how they would fit back into each other's lives now was a discussion that they weren't yet ready to wrap their heads around.

"Well, here we are. Hideout sweet hideout," Oswald shuffled awkwardly, closing in on a modest-looking townhouse tucked beside an obscure road. "Shall we?"

"After you," Edward said, gesturing towards the door.

They ventured inside, Oswald running his hand over the adjoining wall as he fumbled to catch hold of the light switch. Edward blinked his eyes in adjustment as the bulbs flickered on before taking in the surroundings of the room. As expected, it was a far cry from the lavish and artfully decorated manor that the pair had inhabited during their months of campaigning, but it was still cozily furnished with an Oswald-esque kind of touch that made Edward feel immediately at home.

"The place held up rather well, didn't it?" Oswald smiled, admiring an old photograph of his mother on the bookcase.

"It's wonderful, Oswald. I can't thank you enough for having me."

"Don't mention it. We need each other if we're going to get through this transition," Oswald reasoned, rifling through the kitchen cabinet before snatching up a pair of champagne flutes. "After all, no one else in the city understands what we're going through right now."

"I’ll toast to that," Edward grinned, plopping down onto the couch as he watched Oswald pour them both a healthy portion of wine from a bottle he had stored on the counter. It made his heart swell a bit to know that, even after all the time that had passed, some things would simply never change. It had only been a few hours since he was miraculously saved from his imprisonment, and, yet, here he and Oswald were, once again, laughing over drinks together just like old times.

"So, Ed," Oswald pressed, taking a seat beside the other man on the sofa as he handed him his glass. "Would you care for something to eat? If memory serves, the food at Arkham was never too kind to the appetite."

"Practically inedible, yes, but I’m fine waiting until tomorrow to grab a bite. With the G.C.P.D. still swarming around, I wouldn't want to risk stepping outside."

"No need," Oswald assured him, giving a careless wave of his hand. "I have some men on call who can bring us whatever we order."

"Men on call, already? Even after Blackgate?" Edward asked, eyebrow raising with a suspicious kind of intrigue.

"Blackgate ran on a simple quid-pro-quo hierarchy that didn't take long to crack, much to my advantage. I managed to rise through the ranks within a few months and acquired my own miniature empire that I began running from the inside to provide me with whatever I needed during my incarceration. Needless to say, they're more devoted than ever now that I'm free and can start making good on some of the promises I fashioned. So, whatever you want for dinner is fair game. I'm fine with anything."

Edward simply gaped in awestruck admiration, unaware why that explanation had come as such a surprise to him given everything else he knew about the other man. Of course Oswald had schemed to wire the system in his favor right from the get-go. If the infamous and dastardly Penguin was going to spend a decade living behind bars, he was going to live in the most dignified and tasteful manner that he knew how. "Classic bird," Edward smirked with a ravishing delight. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Oswald gave a cheeky shrug, blushing at the compliment despite himself, before looking back up to watch as Edward's face swiftly fell with a grimful remorse.

"Ed, what is it? Are you alright?"

"It's nothing Oswald," Edward muttered, brushing his concern off. "I suppose I just look at you, not knocked down a single peg by what happened, and I can’t help but feel a little… well, a little inferior in comparison."

"Inferior? Why on earth would you think that?"

"I've changed, Oswald. I let that horrid place change me. The type of company I kept, the lack of stimulation: it got to me, despite how hard I tried to resist it. Earlier tonight I was tangled up with Barbara Kean and that imbecile Aubrey James, and just the way they were looking at me—like I was some two-bit, unhinged maniac fresh out of the looney bin—made me realize then that that's all I am to this city now. All of that time and effort I spent into making myself out to be some legitimate criminal was for nothing. I don’t feel quite like my old self anymore."

Oswald gave a deep sigh, gently placing the other's hand in his own as his heart filled with equal parts sympathy and desire to comfort his distressed friend. Rubbing circles around Edward's palm, Oswald lost himself in the brown, doe-like eyes that had long since captured his heart. "Ed," he began with a careful step. "You possess the most brilliant and clever mind that I have ever had the privilege of meeting. Tonight alone, you got us out of the holding van and saved us from another agonizing decade spent in prison, apart from each other—"

"Maybe we were better off apart," Edward interjected, keeping his emotions in check under a stoick and icy facade. "I mean, what good is a wanted escapee from Arkham going to be to your operation now? You're a free man, Oswald, but your second chance is going to be ruined if you're caught conspiring with my sort."

"How could you even suggest that?" Oswald asked, finding the sheer idea of it absurd beyond reason. "Edward, do you know what the worst part of Blackgate was, bar none? It wasn't the humiliation I suffered, or having to watch how depleted my resources became, year after year. No, the worst part of it all was being separated from _you_. I spent every day dreaming about the moment I would finally be able to see you again, and being here with you now is more than I could have ever dared hope for. So to hear you insist that you're, what? Not worthy? A disappointment? Well, honestly, it makes me angry," he confessed, turning back towards Edward only to find that the other man had averted his gaze towards the floor. "Ed? Ed, look at me."

"I'm sorry, Oswald. I didn't mean to spoil our first night back in the world. I just can't shake this guilt that I failed you."

"Failed me how? Ed, what’s gotten into you?"

"Don’t you remember?" Edward stared blankly. "That day in the holding cells of the G.C.P.D. before we got taken away?"

Oswald thought back, trying to rack his brain for the slightest hint at what Edward might be referring to. Of course he remembered that day—it was a day that brought tears to his eyes every night inside of his lonely cell as he vainly attempted sleep—but after ten years, the specifics of each word spoken between them had become somewhat hazy.

"You had been charged with a decade in Blackgate, and I had been sentenced to Arkham indefinitely, pending my psychiatrist's recommendations. Meanwhile, _Gordon_ was busy filing our arrest report," Edward said, the name of the officer being spat out like an obscenity from his mouth. "We had a few minutes to ourselves before the transfer vans were scheduled to arrive, and I was more than a little panicked at the thought of having to face Arkham on my own, but you remained calm and collected for the both of us and urged me to stay strong. You promised that you would break me out as soon as you got released but that _I_ needed to promise to still be there when you did and not give in to whatever 'therapy' they might subject me to."

Oswald gave a slow nod of understanding, beginning to recall the circumstances of the conversation and the final words that had been uttered in secret between the pair. It was true that he had been worried about Edward's state in Arkham—that, year after year, his dearest friend's mind would continue slipping farther and farther away until Oswald would return for him only to find that the enthralling passion he once possessed had vanished completely—but it had only taken a minute of the two being reunited earlier that night for Oswald to see that his fears had amounted to nothing. Edward was as lively and spirited as ever, still the same brilliant strategist that Oswald had fallen in love with so long ago.

"Ed," he began, lifting the other's chin so that they were facing each other head-on. "You _did_ keep your promise; you came home to me. We are right back where we always belonged, and I am never going to let anything tear us apart from each other again, least of all your criminal record. So what if the G.C.P.D. is on your trail? They'll be on mine, too, shortly enough. Why else do you think that bat-clad lunatic strung me up right next to you? It wasn't guilt-by-association, Ed. I held Jim Gordon at gunpoint only a few hours ago, for crying out loud. You are no more damaging to my social standing than I am. We are who we are, and I _like_ who we are."

Slightly taken aback, Edward gave a curt nod as he suddenly found himself reflecting on their glorious reign as the most formidable power duo in Gotham politics. What Oswald had needed at the time was a proper campaign manager with an attractive reputation who was well-versed in the art of elections, but, instead, for God knows what reason, the forthcoming mayor had decided on aligning himself with a convicted serial killer whose crimes were splattered across the front page of the Gotham Gazette for all the city to read. Oswald had chosen him, despite the fact that Ed did nothing to help his approval ratings, simply because he valued his insights. It was a level of compassion previously unknown to him and had meant more than words could ever say, allowing Edward's present self to take comfort in the promise that everything might be alright again after all if maybe, just maybe, they could get back to that place of trust.

"Well, in that case, perhaps I could help you."

"Help me…?"

"Take down Jim Gordon. I mean, he _is_ the one to blame for this."

Oswald became instantly overcome with relief as he saw an all-too-familiar cheshire grin start to creep up on the corner of the other man's lips. "There’s the Ed Nygma I know and missed."

"I missed you as well, Oswald. I hope you know that. There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think of you or wish that those few months we shared had lasted longer."

Oswald felt his face turn flush as he downed the rest of the wine, setting his glass on the coffee table in front of them before leaning back into the sofa. "So did I, old friend. Although we had been working together much longer than just a few months, if I'm not mistaken."

"15 to be exact," Edward corrected, matter-of-factly. Oswald raised a skeptical eyebrow, unable to help but feel amused at the other man’s trademark precision. "Well, we had started plans for the submarine around the same time that Barbara found out she was pregnant, and then we had about another half of a year post-reunification before Jim nabbed us. I know how long we had partnered for. When I said 'a few' I was only counting our time together that I actually enjoyed. You were a real pain in the beginning."

Oswald gave an incredulous gasp and playfully nudged Edward in the shoulder as both men started to crack up, the distance between them becoming ever more intimate as they eased their way back into each other’s lives.

"I think I’ve had too much to drink," Edward admitted, swirling his glass around absentmindedly.

"You've barely had anything."

"I suppose that, after ten years, my tolerance level isn't what it used to be."

"Yeah, mine either," Oswald sighed, allowing exhaustion to get the better of him as he rested against the couch cushion. He closed his eyes for a moment before releasing a soft chuckle under his breath. "Honestly, Ed, 'a real pain'? You know, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you aren't always the easiest person to get along with either."

"I know," Edward murmured, giving a soft smile as he let his head fall back next to Oswald’s until there was barely an inch of space left between them. "And, yet, you like me anyway."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Oswald asked, finding the question redundant. "What is there left to say about us that hasn’t been said already? 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same,' or so it goes."

"Interesting quote choice seeing as how Catherine and Heathcliff's relationship was actually quite disastrous. They were practically siblings, for starters."

Oswald scoffed, unbelieving, and shook his head at the other man's complete obliviousness. "You really don’t ever turn that big brain of yours off, do you?"

Edward gave an innocent shrug. "You never turn off your heart. I guess some things never change."

"Maybe they don't," Oswald agreed, fondly, looking back towards Edward as he felt decade-old emotions begin to overtake him. "But some things never should."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please feel free to comment any thoughts/suggestions/etc., or you can also reach me on Tumblr @/GothamVillains.
> 
> This fic was a bit bittersweet for me to finish as it is likely the final Gotham-based piece that I will write. This show has meant so much to me these past five years, and I will always love these characters and be appreciative for the way that they've inspired me. Of course, it's always possible that I will make a liar out of myself and end up revisiting them again, but—for now, at least—I will be taking a step back and seeing what else calls out.
> 
> Anyway, in case it's a while before I upload here again, I just wanted to thank you all for supporting me and making my experience writing fanfic and being on this website so enjoyable. It truly means the world to me.
> 
> Thank you. :)


End file.
